


Title in the works

by SerenityShadows



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Historical, BAMF Stiles, F/F, F/M, Female Stiles Stilinski, M/M, Multi, full shift wolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-28
Updated: 2015-09-28
Packaged: 2018-04-23 18:44:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4887772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SerenityShadows/pseuds/SerenityShadows
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is just a short snippet of a larger fic that I'm not sure if I want to really continue or not. I would just appreciate some feedback, if y'all would be so kind as to leave some.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Title in the works

 

“What’s your real name, woman?”

“Stiles.” She said finally, dropping the false gruffness she used to disguise her voice.

The man scoffed and Stiles fisted her hands on her hips.

“You have the name of a fool.”

“A fool I may be but yet,” she replied, rolling her eyes then smirking at him. “I am not the one tied to a tree, in a Hunter’s camp.”

The man’s lips curled up and his eyes flashed red as he growled. Her eyes widened, terrified and yet a part of her was fascinated. She had never seen one of his kind with red eyes. Scott had only shone gold in his.

“What are you doing?”   

It was only at his snarl that she realized her hand had been reaching out to, to, to what?

 _To touch his face, to pull him close and watch the colors in his eyes shift between greens, blues and reds_. A voice whispered in her mind and she shook it out. She knew nothing about this man, besides that he was a Wolf and these hunters would torture him, drawing pleasure from his pain before eventually leaving him to die. She continued to reach forward, ignoring the flush spreading across her cheeks at being caught unaware by her own actions, and produced a knife from her boots. He immediately watched her hand like a hawk, but she noticed his body was relaxed as if he did not see her as a threat.

 _Good._ She thought, letting out a soft sigh. She really was not, though she liked to think of herself that way. In this new world, she had to think that though, or else, she would be dead before the dawn. She knelt down beside the wolf, for once not finding words to say other than mindless little trinkets of information, mostly about the forest. They lapsed into companionable one sided talk as Stiles worked on the fraying ropes. It was thicker than any other rope she had ever used the knife on and knew there had to be mountain ash fibers ingrained in with the strands. She was not sure of how much time had passed but as she got close to getting the rope cut, a deep growl started to rise in his chest and the hair on her neck began to stand as she heard rustling behind her in the brush.

“Run.” He ordered, pinning her with ruby eyes then jerking against the ropes as if he was trying to cut himself out of them, though it just merely rubbed against the .exposed parts of his skin

She frantically kept working at the rope, unsure why she was so set on freeing this Wolf. She would admit that he looked like no one else in her village and he was very, very handsome and strong but that did not explaining the feeling of urgency under her skin.     

“Run!” He ordered again, a deep rumble making the order one to obey and he snapped fangs at her, making her fall back.

She sent wide eyes at him and he did it again, sending her scrambling behind the tree just as the group of hunters came back stumbling into the clearing. By the smell of them, they had been celebrating the capture of the Wolf at the pub in the village. They ignored the Wolf’s grumbling. He seemed to not like the fact that she had not run. She heard the men wandering around the grove and some even made a few comments that had the tips of her ears burning which was saying something considering she worked at the local tavern. Soon though the sky began to darken and she could see the flicker of flames from their campfire casting shadows that danced in the trees.

The Wolf had given up his growling, though she could tell that he was still upset that she was still there. Slowly, the men around the fire succumbed to the drink they had shared and the glade was filled with loud snoring. She held up her knife, careful to keep it from reflecting on the fire to see the glade. She had to snort to herself. These men were obviously novice hunters. They had all fallen asleep, leaving no one to stand watch. She quickly spun around and began working on the ropes once more. The harder she sawed at the ropes, the more she could feel the give as the ropes gave way. Eventually they were all severed and they fell to the side.

The man surged up and she watched, his clothes were in a pile on the ground as a large black wolf stood in his place.  She stared transfixed. Scott had never done that. His face and nails had been the only thing that ever changed and even at that, he had only ever done it a few times.

The wolf seemingly rolled his eyes and she came back to herself.

“When you get to the edge of the forest, go left towards the river.” She eventually said quietly, eyeing the men to check that they were still fast asleep. “There are villagers in the mountains. Ask for Boyd, the blacksmith and his woman, Erica. They will help you get back to your lands.”  

The wolf’s eyes flashed then he turned tail and took off into the forest.

She rolled her eyes. “Well, he has a very sour disposition.” She mumbled, twirling the knife in her hand before slipping it back into her boot. She shook her head and followed the Wolf’s lead, making her way back to her home. As she walked the path, she couldn’t help but feel like she was being watched. She tensed but kept going, the feeling growing until the shouts of the men could be heard behind.

“Get him!”

She froze, wave of ice cold fear washed through her. They found her. Before she could even realize it, her body had turned and she was running back the way she came. She came to the clearing where the fire was still burning but the men were nowhere to be seen. She immediately noticed prints in the ground and went in the opposite direction, toward the river. She was no Wolf but she could hide her tracks with the best of them. As she ran, ducking under trees and jumping over fallen logs, she could still hear the men shouting and it kept her going. Eventually, she came to the river and hesitated, unsure of where to go. If she crossed the river, she would be in Wolf territory and there was no telling what they would do to her. If she kept running, eventually she would tire out and be too exhausted to fight back.

“There he is!”

She gasped and took a deep breath before running into the river, splashing water as she went. The river was wide and deepened as she kept going until her feet couldn’t even touch. She kept going though, knowing if she turned back, the Hunters would no doubt kill her. Soon she could reach again and she was scrambling up the bank. Shots began to ring out as bullets peppered the area around her. Then she heard shouting as a black mass sprang from the trees in front of her and roared at the men. It was a smaller wolf but from what she could tell, there were more wolves in the trees. She sighed in relief but before she could right herself and head for the trees, a burning and ripping pain went through her stomach.

She fell to the ground crying out in pain. As her eyes started to blacken, she heard a howl that put all the others to shame and the men began screaming in horror.

* * * * * * * * * * *

 “…she needs to heal.”

“You’ve been saying that for the last two days, Deaton. How much longer will it take?”

“Only she knows, Derek. Now come, she needs rest.”

 _Derek, hmm?_ _So you do have a name._ Stiles thought, keeping her eyes closed and heartbeat normal as their voices slowly faded away.She opened her eyes and found herself staring at the ceiling of what looked like a dug-out room. There were thick tree roots woven through what looked like moss. There were herbs and various bags hanging from them, in various states of drying or organization. She turned her head and found a small wooden table that looked like it was painstakingly carved. There was a clay cup resting there with what looked like water and next to it, there was a bullet with a leather throng through it and her dagger.

 _That was inside of me_. She thought eyes widening as she shot up in bed, only to moan and grab at her side as it tinged in pain.

She then realized that the shift was wearing was not hers and her underclothes were gone. She quickly flushed. She was not, by far, the most endowed of women but she was not small either. The thought of someone seeing her exposed like that was not the most comforting.  She pulled the hem of the shift up and saw only a glimpse of thread in her side before pushing it back down. She gingerly moved her legs to the side of the bed. Her boots were ready and waiting under her clothes which were folded neatly. She reached down slowly, glad to find that the pain was manageable, and pulled the things on to the bed she was on. Her breeches and corset were accounted for but her shift was nowhere to be found. She sighed, and began pulling on her clothes. It was a slow process but she got it done, even being able to get her shoes on.

She stood slowly, taking a few cautious steps to find her footing then reached for her dagger and the bullet, putting the later around her neck. The dagger she held onto, clenching it in her hand as she made her way to a door that she could only assume led to the outside and to her future.

 


End file.
